


The Choosing

by Valeris_Shade



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Werewolves Are Known, Dead Claudia Stilinski, F/M, Female Stiles Stilinski, Human Stiles Stilinski, M/M, Mates, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Build Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-07
Updated: 2016-03-07
Packaged: 2018-05-22 06:10:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6068095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Valeris_Shade/pseuds/Valeris_Shade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a world where werewolves are known and peace depends on a long standing tradition, the day of the Wolf Moon is the most hated day in Beacon Hills. It is the day of the Choosing, where one unlucky teen will be taken from their family and left at the Arch, a sacrifice for peace. No one knows exactly what happens to the teens when they are taken, only what will happen if no one is given to the wolves. Gerard reminds them constantly.<br/>When Stiles' name is drawn she knows her life is finished but prays her father will be strong enough to survive. What happens when she learns that not everything is as it seems?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, new story idea I have. I'm mainly using this chapter to just feel out how people like it and so I don't lose it. I'm currently working on another story and a none shot piece, so I'm not sure when this will get updated.
> 
> I know others have probably done something similar, but I watched an older movie called Dragonslayer the other night, where they do a drawing to sacrifice a virgin to a dragon. Some reason my brain ran with idea, but just without dragons and not necessarily virgins.
> 
> Also, I see this taking place in a universe that is a weird mesh of our modern world and a more medieval society. Not sure how that is going to work out, but here I go.

    Long fingers knocked a ringing alarm from the bedside table and a groan escaped from under the covers. Stiles threw back the covers and stared at the ceiling before getting up  enough to turn off the awful ringing. Amber gaze looked to the window to see nothing but darkness and it was so tempting to go to bed. However, she spotted the clothes set out on her desk chair and was reminded about what day it was. No point in sleeping in, not if she wanted time with her father this morning. She stood and stretched then began to get dressed.

    The clothes were simple and nondescript, black pants and a white button up. Every sixteen year old in the town would be dressed the same until after the ceremony. She rushed through brushing her hair, braiding it and wrapping it into a bun at the base of her neck. Once she is finished, she ends up staring at her reflection in the mirror. She takes in her upturned nose, her moles, her eyes that are just like her mother’s… the only feature she really likes. She gets lost in thought, nervous about today’s outcome before her father’s voice startles her. She finished washing up and headed downstairs to join him from breakfast.

    She stood at the door in the kitchen, watching as he moved around the stove and started loading food onto plates. Normally he wouldn’t be at home today due to helping to coordinate everything and prepare for the morning’s event. Since she was going to be amongst the crowd this time, the deputies had insisted he stay home with her. There was a chance it would be their last breakfast together after all.

    “Morning.” He turns, plates in hand, and just takes her in as she fidgets. He smiles sadly as he sets the plates down on the table and then moves towards her, pulling her into a warm hug and then handing her a cup with the tea she drinks to help her focus. “Made your favorite.”

    “Thanks.” Her voice cracks with nerves and she knows she won’t be able to eat much. They sit and she looks over her plate of chocolate chip and blueberry pancakes. Normally she’d be digging in and trying for more, but today her stomach just churns. She manages a few bites as her while drinking down the awful tasting concoction and her father talk about things that have been taking place in school, the station, and in town. Neither one talks about anything that might take place after today. Where normally there would be laughter and joking, there is only quiet discussion. Once they finish, they start quiet clean up, working together to make sure the kitchen is spotless. The sound of the old raid siren startles her, causing her to drop a glass and for it to shatter as it hit the ground. Her amber gaze meets that of her father's worried blue and she swallows as he grabs the broom and dustpan. He cleans up the mess with ease, resting a hand on her shoulder once he's finished.

    "I guess we should get going, huh?" Her voice shakes as she speaks and her father can only sigh and nod. They leave the house in silence, walking side by side. The sun has barely risen, but there is enough light to see by. Stiles watches as several other families leave their homes, all headed towards the center of town. She sees a few other teens dressed the same as she and it only seems to amp up her nerves. She reaches out for her father's hand and is pleased when his warm and steady grip finds hers. 

    The town of Beacon Hills is fairly small, easy to travel by foot, but easier by car. No one drives on this day though. The town was founded right after the treaty was signed with the werewolves and was built with today in mind, designed to be easy for everyone to gather.

    She can hear voices the closer they get to the town center and then she sees the crowd that is gathering. The town center has always been the place for all major events in Beacon Hills, but had been originally built for this day. It had a decent sized stage offset from the center of the area with a podium and several chairs. To the side of the stage was a large clear bin filled with small black balls inside it. Directly ahead of the stage was a roped off area surrounded by deputies, and Stiles could see families escorting their children to the area before taking a seat in the stands. Stiles takes a deep, calming breath as they approach the holding area and her father squeezes her hand. A soft friendly smile crosses her lips as she is able to make out the nearest deputy, Tara Graeme.

    "Hello Stiles, Sheriff." She tipped her head in a nod to the two as they approached and pulled Stiles into a quick hug. Stiles had never been so happy that she had grown up around the deputies. At least even with her father in the stands, she would have a few people nearby.

    "Hi, Tara.”

    "Hello, Tara." John took her hand when she extended it, never letting go of Stiles with the other.

    "I'm sorry, Sheriff, but we have to get all the kids together. Gerard seems antsy this morning." Stiles looks at her father curiously when he squeezes her hand tighter at Tara's words.

    "I understand." He hugs Stiles close and it takes all of his willpower to let his daughter go. He watches as Tara leads her into the holding area before he heads into the stands. He's terrified of what the outcome of today will be, of what will happen to his baby girl. 

    Stiles fidgets as she glances around the gathered teens, noticing they are all just as nervous as she. She lets her gaze wander into the crowd in the stands. She spots her father and gives a tentative wave before arms wrap around her from the side. She turns to see her longtime friend Heather and hugs the girl close.

    "Stiles, thank god I found you. I don't think I could go through this alone."

    "Same." The two girls pull apart, but Heather grabs Stiles' hand. They talk quietly as the last teens are brought to join the group and the last families join the stands. Stiles catches movement from the side of the stage and watches as the officials take the stage. 

    Jennifer Blake takes the seat closest to the clear bin. She is tall with light brown hair hanging loose around her shoulders, and dressed in a simple white dress. Her eyes scan the crowd of gathered sixteen year olds and Stiles shudders when her somewhat blank gaze passes over her. The woman had always given her the creeps. Guess that was expected of a druid who created magical protections and potions for the Hunters.

    Chris Argent is next and he takes a seat next to Jennifer. He's gotten a lot more grey since Stiles last saw him but she guesses that's to be expected after the year he has endured. His face looks worn, like a man who has seen too much war, and his blue gaze is piercing though he seems to be staring off at nothing. He's the leader of the Hunters, the protectors of their town from the werewolves.

    Her father would normally be the third figure to step onto the stage, as leader of the Sheriff's Department. Today one of his deputies takes his place in the seat next to Chris. Stiles vaguely recognizes him, but does remember his son is a year younger than she is. He'll be a part of the Choosing next year.

    The final man to step on stage terrifies her, always had. The Mayor stands tall with each step he takes and a hush falls over the crowd as he moves directly to the podium. He's broader than Chris, but slightly shorter, with a balding head and wrinkled features. He looks like he should be walking with a cane but doesn't. He scans the crowd, just as Jennifer had, but he stops on stiles, eyes narrowing as he watches her. She fidgets and pulls Heather closer. She wishes her father was right with her. She wishes her best friend was here. Stiles holds his gaze, trying her best to not show any fear, but his smirk tells her she failed. Gerard Argent finally looks away and begins to speak.

    "My comrades, my neighbors. We gather this morning for the Choosing, a tradition that has kept us safe and at peace from the monsters that would gladly take our very lives. In this bin beside me is a collection of each name for all the teens gathered before you. Each one has hit their sixteenth year, making them eligible for the Choosing. One young man or woman will become the instrument of our continued peace, until the next Wolf Moon."

    Stiles was confused as Gerard motioned to Jennifer for her to turn the crank that would cause the names to be mixed up. Normally he went on about the old wars between humans and the monsters,  the bloodshed that would follow if the Choosing did not take place. She'd grown up hearing the same words year after year and fearing for whoever was sacrificed, because that's what this was. A sacrifice. One life so many would be safe. Stiles heart started racing as she watched, never noticing the the cruel gaze focused on her or noticing her father's terrified face. The turning of the crank stopped and Jennifer opened the panel that allowed her to pull a single ball from the bin. She then handed it to the deputy who moved towards the podium, Argent side stepping with a sly smirk.

    "When I call your name, come forward to the stage. You will then be briefed on preparations for moon rise." The deputy's voice shakes as he speaks, nerves obvious. Everyone watched as he open the small black ball and pulled out a piece of paper. His posture is stiff and full of tension as he reads the name, glancing towards a section of the stands. Where normally he would give the full name, he simply says one word.

    "Stilinski." 

    "No..." Heather's soft voice broke through the shock that kept Stiles frozen in place. She wanted to search out her father in the stands but she couldn't, she'd break down otherwise. She forced one foot in front of the other and the crowd of teens parted. When she reached the stage, two burly hunters lifted her up and Chris's hand steadied her. She wanted to beg him to tell her this was a dream. Jennifer's hands fell on her shoulders, turning the young girl to face the crowd.

    She doesn't pay attention to what is said next, just knows that everyone is leaving and she is then being guided off stage. Jennifer's hands leave her shoulders and Chris's steady grip takes her elbow, steadying her shaky legs. It takes everything in her not to cry as she notices the uniformed deputies leading her father to her. She bolts forward, and his arms wrap around her, holding her close.

    "Chris."

    "John." Chris's voice clears the fog and she pulls away from her father, facing the three adults that are now in control of her last hours in Beacon Hills. Jennifer is standing back talking to Gerard in hushed whispers. "Do you want me to explain everything or would you like to?"

    "Thank you, Chris, but I know the routine. I'll tell her what she needs to know when we get back to the house."

     "I understand." He stands there looking at the Stilinski's, a look of concern across his face. He opens his mouth to say something else but another voice cuts him off.

    "I'm so sorry that it's your daughter that was Chosen, Sheriff." Gerard doesn't sound a bit sorry and she knows her father doesn't believe him from the way he shifts to stand slightly in front of her.

    "I'm sure you are. I'll get the day with her, right Argent? As per tradition?" His voice is steady, and Stiles can tell he's glaring at the older man. Stiles just feels like she's missing something.

    "Of course. I'll send some Hunters to pick her up before sundown and take her to Jennifer to be prepared, as per tradition." He still has that smirk as he speaks. "You'll have until then to say your goodbyes." John opens his mouth to argue that he doesn't want anyone Gerard sends near his daughter but is cut off by Chris.

    "I'll pick her up, John. It's the least I can do." Both men have been friends for years and John is grateful.  John doesn't wait for anything else, just pulls his daughter close and turns them the direction of home.

    Neither speak the whole route home. The closer they get, the more Stiles starts to shake. Her father's voice is a comfort but it's not enough. He manages to get her through the door before her legs give out and she's gasping for breath, the reality of the situation finally sinking in. She barely registers the feeling of her father's arms holding her close.

    John slides to the ground with his daughter, pulling her to his chest and pressing her face into his neck, whispering words of comfort as he tries to get her to breath and not lose it himself. This had been his greatest fear as the Wolf Moon got closer and closer and now it has come true. He is barely managing to hold himself together, but knows he has to for Stiles. He continues to talk to her, getting her focused on his own breathing, and is relieved when her breaths start to even out.

    "You back with me?" He lets out a deep breath when he feels her nod and then just hugs her tight. She's still crying but at least now she's breathing. He holds her as her crying slows into soft sniffles and then gently shifts her so he can look her in the face. He gently wipes away some of her tears with his thumbs and can feel his own eyes watering.

     "I'm scared." She sounds so small and broken and he hates it, it's not her.

    "I know. I am too."  Stiles pushes his hands away from her face and then uses the sleeves of the shirt to wipe away the rest of her tears. She feels exhausted.

    “What's going to happen to me?" She fidgets with the now damp sleeve, not looking at her father in fear of breaking down once more.

    "Come on, let's get off the floor and I'll explain everything I can." He manages to push himself to sitting and then help her up, steadying her when she sways slightly. She grabs his hand tightly when he goes to pull away and so when he sits he pulls her into his side so he can hold her close. He takes comfort in the fact that once they are sitting she drops his hand so that she can wrap her arms around his chest.

    "The tradition is that whoever is chosen is given the rest of the day to be with their family, a chance to say goodbye." John clears his throat, trying to hold back tears at the thought. "We get to spend it however we want. About two hours before sundown, Chris will come pick you up and take you to Jennifer. She will get you ready for moon rise."

    "And by get ready you mean?"

    "She'll have you take a bath with some herbs and oils added to it, help you dress afterwards. About thirty minutes before sunset you will be taken to the Arch, tied to the posts so you can't run." he hugs his daughter tightly as she squeezes his rib cage. 

    "Will I be alone?"

    "Yes. No one is allowed to wait with you."

    "What happens once the wolves come?"

    "No one knows, sweetheart. The Hunters will go out there tomorrow morning, but no clue has ever been left behind except for the ropes being cut." He feels her take a deep breath before speaking again, her voice sounding a little more sure.

    "So, I could end up ok, right? I could just end up living with the pack?" She couldn't let herself think about the chance of being kept alive only to be killed later.

    "Yeah, there is that chance." They both sit silence for a while, just taking in each other's presence.

    The next several hours pass quickly for the small family. Stiles makes her father promise to take care of himself and to live and her father makes her promise to do the same. They go through old pictures, Stiles hanging onto every word as she tries to commit them all to memory. They are sitting in the middle of the living room, surrounded by photo albums, when the knock at the door comes. Stiles jumps and can feel her heart rate pick up as John goes and answers the door. She can hear them talking, but can't make out their words. He comes back with Chris Argent in tow.

    "I'm really sorry to break this up, John." 

    "I'm sorry, too." Stiles can see the worry lines on her father's face, and she swears he's aged ten years in a single day.

    "Hello, Stiles." She takes a moment to take in his appearance. He's dressed in hiking boots, jeans, an old tee that she remembers Alison giving him, and a warm looking jacket. He still hasn't shaved, and he looks like this is going to break him as much as her father.

    "Mr. Argent." She manages to push herself to standing, even though her legs shake. "Do I need to bring anything?"

    "No, Jennifer will have everything you will need." She nods, fidgeting where she stands, unable to take the necessary steps to move towards the door. "I'll just wait outside." He turns and Stiles is grateful. As soon as he is out of sight she manages to move towards her father and is enveloped in one of his world class hugs. She hopes she never forgets this feeling.

    "I'm scared..."

    "I know, honey, so am I." She feels as he presses a kiss to her cheek and when she pulls back she sees the tears in his eyes.

    "I need to hear it one more time..." She wipes furiously at her own tears, her voice cracking.

    "I promise I won't give up," He swallows as his own voice breaks, "that I will keep on living."

    "And I promise I'll do my best to be safe." 

    "Just hold your head up, kid. Don't let them see fear, ok?" She nods and John walks her to the door. He nods to Chris when the other man puts his arm around his daughter as she makes it out the door. He's glad Chris is there for her. John watches the two of them as they head towards Jennifer's until he can't see them anymore. He manages to keep himself together until he closes the door, and only then allows himself to break.

     Neither Chris nor Stiles speak the whole way to Jennifer. It would unnerve Chris any other day, but for today he expects it. He does his best to comfort her as they walk, keeping his arm around her. He'd made sure that the others would be patrolling so he will get to be with her all the way to the Arch. They are almost to the druid's place when her soft voice startles him out of his thoughts.

    "Mr. Argent..."

    "Yeah, Stiles?"

    "Could you keep an eye on my dad for me? Make sure he doesn't do anything stupid?" He can hear the tears in her voice, even though she doesn't look at him.

    "Yeah, I can do that."

    "Thanks." He just squeezes her arm before pulling away as the building comes into view. It looks like any other home in the city, except for strange symbols painted on the door and odd decorations placed everywhere. Chris guides Stiles up the steps and knocks on the door. They are left waiting just a moment before Jennifer opens the door, a soft smile on her lips, and she motions them in. 

    "Right on time, Chris. Hello, Stiles." The teen just nods, her amber gaze taking in her surroundings. She's only ever been here once before when she'd gotten pneumonia. The foyer looks much the same as she remembers. Soft cream walls and dark wood floors that are meant to be inviting, but just make Stiles long for home. "Stiles, follow me. Chris, you can wait in the parlor." She turns and heads up the stairs and it takes Chris giving her a gentle push for her to follow.

    Stiles is lead up and into a large bathroom, with stark white walls and tile flooring. There is no sink nor shower, just a large porcelain claw foot tub and some cabinets. She imagines any other day she would be excited to get a chance to soak in the thing. She watches as Jennifer pulls some bottles from one of the cabinets and then turns on the water. Steam rises quickly and Jennifer adds several herbs and oils from the different bottles, causing a sweet scent to fill the air. Jennifer has been so quiet while working that Stiles jumps when she does speak.

    "The water is going to be on the warmer side, unfortunately that's necessary for all the herbs to infuse the water properly." She holds up a bar of soap for Stiles to see. "Make sure you wash everywhere and use this soap to help you get clean." She moves away and opens another cabinet to reveal towels and some simple robes. "Try to be quick but thorough. When your done, come out and go to the room at the end of the hall on the right."

     With that the druid leaves and Stiles is alone. The water is still running so she tries to undress quickly. Stiles' hands shake and tears drip down her cheeks. Suddenly all she wants is her mother. She takes time to fold her clothes into a neat pile, dropping her hair pins on top, before turning to the water. A hiss escapes her lips as she steps one foot in and she has to force herself to breath through bringing the other in. This is a bit more than on the warm side. She grits her teeth as she lowers herself down, quickly turning off the water once it's enough to cover her body. She just lays there for a moment, adjusting. The scent is sweet but oddly comforting. Grabbing the soap she sniffs it, and notices it seems spicier, almost like cinnamon. She decides she can't prolong the inevitable and washes quickly, dunking under the water to wet her hair. Every movement causes fresh waves of heat and she briefly wonders if the plan is to boil her alive and then leave her as an offering. That thought has her rushing to get out. 

    She debates briefly on pulling the drain plug but decides she's just going to leave it. The cool air causes goosebumps and shivering as soon as she stands and she quickly wraps up in one of the towels. She dries off the best she can, wrapping her hair in the towel before putting on one of the robes. At least it's not see through. She takes a deep breath before stepping out of the bathroom and heading down the hall. Her curious nature almost has her ducking in another room, just to see what's there, but she restrains herself. The door at the end of the hall is open and she steps through without a word.

    The room is small and very sparsely furnished. There is a simple wooden vanity against the wall, covered in more bottles of what look to be oils. There is a simple stool placed before it and a changing curtain to the side. Jennifer is hanging up some white fabric on a hook next to the curtain and then turns to Stiles, that unending smile still there. Stiles really wants to slap it from her face.

    "You're finished, that's good. Close the door and then come change into this." Stiles does as she's told, really thinking they need someone with better bedside manner. She grabs the fabric and steps behind the curtain. The fabric turns out to be a long white dress and Stiles cringes. 

    "Uhm... is there any underwear I can use?" She's proud to find her voice steady.

    "Of course." Jennifer's hand appears around the curtain and Stiles takes the offered clothing. She dresses quickly in the plain white panties and bra and then steps into the dress. She can't reach the laces on the back and so she steps out holding the front to her tightly. Jennifer comes over without a word and ties the dress tightly. Stiles gets a quick glimpse in the mirror as she is brought over to the stool. The dress is fitted along her torso, showing her curves, and loose as soon as it reaches her hips allowing it to sway around her feet with each step. The neckline is low enough to show her collarbone but nothing else and the sleeves are fitted, ending in a three-quarter sleeve. It would easily be considered pretty if the occasion was different. Jennifer hands her a glass of water and Stiles drinks a few gulps quickly, never noticing the smirk on Jennifer's face.

    "Now, I'm going to brush out your hair and put some oils on your skin. They'll help with your nerves." Stiles doesn't speak, just stares at her own reflection in the mirror. Jennifer's movements are efficient, methodical. The knots from her hair are removed quickly with the help of a brush and some sweet smelling oil.  The older woman then massages another oil into her temples and the underside of her jaw, going towards her ears. A third oil is used on her hands and feet and by this point Stiles is feeling just a bit boneless and her mind is quiet, a rarity for the teen. She stumbles slightly as she is helped to standing and she's grateful for Jennifer's hand on her arm to keep her steady. She's guided out of the room, down the hall, and back down the stairs to Chris.

    Chris greets them at the bottom of the stairs, and Stiles hates the sad look she sees in his eyes. She wishes he looked angry like he normally does. She takes the few steps so that she is standing next to him, noting that her legs feel a little unsteady but not so much she won't be able to walk. 

    "She's ready. Might want to hurry so you get her set up before moon rise."

    "Come on, Stiles." The teen just follows him out the door, figuring being barefoot is just another part of the ceremony. Chris is kind enough to keep to a well worn path as much as possible, guiding her so she doesn't trip over roots. They reach the edge of town quickly and Stiles is able to see the Arch but realizes her vision is a little fuzzy. She reaches out and rests her hand on Chris's arm to steady herself the closer they get as her vision blurrier. Chris takes it simply as a nervous gesture but doesn't push her away. She can't seem to gather her thoughts.

    The path is well worn and smooth, easy for the teen to walk. The Arch, when they reach it, is very simple. It's formed from vines and branches that have been twisted together and over taken a simple frame. Stiles has a brief thought that it would probably be gorgeous covered in flowers. Chris positions her at its center, her back to Beacon Hills and facing the woods. Her mind clears for a moment as she feels the first touch of coarse rope around her wrist.

    "Please don't tie me up, Mr. Argent. I promise I won't run." His eyes are sad but kind as he finishes securing her left wrist. As he pulls away Stiles feels and hears the soft clink of metal against metal and she looks up to see two plain bands attached to her wrist with a simple black cord that’s also wrapped around the palm of her hand. She closes her fingers tightly around it, recognizing her parents’ wedding bands.

    "I'm sorry, Stiles. We have to make sure you don't." He then grabs her right wrist and secures it as well. She feels metal pressed into her palm as he presses her fingers closed, the odd shape making her confused. She’s left standing with her hands slightly above her head and to the side. His brow creases in concern when he notices that she is shaking. He takes her face in his hand and sees that her eyes are clouded as if she's been given a sedative. 

    "Stiles-"

    "That's good enough, son." Chris barely manages to conceal the fact that his father's voice startles him. How had he not noticed that they were not alone?

    "I was just making sure." He didn't like this. They never sedated any of the teens before. And had his father followed them... or had he already been here.

    "Miss Stilinski won't be going anywhere. Why don't you head back and brief the new recruits, hmmm?"

    "Not coming with me? I thought you liked meeting the new Hunters."

    "I'll catch up. I just want to talk with the young lady. Is that a crime, son?" The set of his father's shoulders and the gleam in his eye tells Chris that there is more to this, much more, but he doesn't know what.

    "No, no crime."

    "Good, then you can head on back." Stiles tried to keep her focus on Gerard, to call Chris back, but she couldn't do either. Her head was beginning to feel like it was stuffed with cotton and her mouth just didn't seem to want to listen to her. Gerard was silent until Chris was far enough away.

    "I'm glad my son let us have a little privacy, Miss Stilinski, or would you prefer Stiles?" He watched her for just a moment, not even long enough for her to answer. "You see, I've been looking forward to this day, my chance to gain control over the Sheriff's Department,  to get my revenge by sacrificing John's precious daughter."

    "How?" Fear helped to lift the fog slightly, just enough to help her regain her voice.

    "How did I know your name would be picked? Simple." He holds up a piece of paper but Stiles can't focus on the writing. "The drugs Miss Blake slipped you must be making it hard to focus right about now, but I'm sure the Johnson family is grateful that you took their son's place this evening." Stiles' blood turns to ice as fear engulfs her. "It was just a matter of promising that deputy that his kid's name would be left out next year, not even entered into the pot."

    Stiles starts pulling at the ropes holding her in place but her muscles feel weak, her limbs uncoordinated. She can't focus to see what type of knot was used to see if she can untie it. Gerard has moved closer know, his cold fingers turning her face to his and this close she can see the rage.

    "I'm sure your father will be driven mad with grief once we find your blood spilled all over the base of this Arch." Stiles barely registers pressure in her stomach before she sees the bloody knife being held in front of her face. "And even if he doesn't, the wolves descending on Beacon Hills will finally allow me to wipe them out. You see, they won't like this little breach of the treaty. They like their sacrifices alive and unharmed."

     "No..." She pulls harder on the ropes, feeling the coarse fibers starting to rub her skin raw. Gerard's laugh echos around her as he walks away, leaving her to bleed out, to be the start of a new war. She has to stop the bleeding, she has to warn her father. She just starts pulling her left arm has hard as she possibly can, twisting her wrist back and forth, clumsy fingers trying to grasp the rope and work it free. She starting to feel weaker and like the world is caving in on her, when she finally manages to work her hand loose and clutches at her stomach where it had begun to hurt. Tears run freely down her face as her legs give out beneath her. The last thing she sees before succumbing to the darkness is a pair of eerily bright blue eyes, a broken whisper for help escaping her lips.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Hale pack prepares for the Wolf Moon and their reactions on finding the Beacon Hills nominee.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Geez I am so sorry that is has taken two years to break down and finish the second chapter. Hopefully the next one won't take me near as long to complete.

    Out in the woods was a small village nestled at the base of a mountain. The sun was just beginning to shine its rays down on the buildings. A tall figure stood outside the door of a home built just high enough on the mountain incline that they could look out and see the entire village. Dark eyes scanned over the waking pack with a content smile. The hunting party was just arriving back from their outing, arms full of game. Her eldest daughter and son were leading the group, a large elk over her son’s shoulders while his sister drug the carcass of a hog. She was talking with their newest hunting party member, a bright smile on their faces. The group turned towards the butcher’s so they could drop off their bounty.

    She could see her Emissary already out in his garden gathering herbs for drying and storing. He was showing one of her younger betas how to identify plants that would heal and plants that would kill. He was the son of their healer and had been training under her Emissary and their healer before he’d been given the bite to save his life. She had thought maybe he would become the Emissary for her successor some day, but with him becoming a wolf that would not be a possibility. He would still make an excellent healer though.

    She watched over her pack a bit longer before finally heading down amongst her pack. The energy thrumming through them was contagious as was normal for the morning before the full moon, but tonight was the Wolf Moon run. It wasn’t what she hoped the run would truly become but it was better than nothing. The treaty developed between her ancestors and the humans of Beacon Hills had kept the peace so she couldn’t complain. And maybe, just maybe, tonight her son would find someone to help him heal.

    As she walked through the homes of her pack, she greeted each by name, finally stopping as she reached her destination. The door opened as she approached and it’s owner greeted her with a revarant nod. She smiled and shook her head as he gestured for her to come in.

    “Alpha Hale.”

    “Deaton, my friend, why must I still after all these years tell you to call me by name?” The man smiled.

    “Because, Talia, I use your title as a sign of respect.” He handed her a mug of strong tea that he had ready. It was normal for her to visit him the morning of the Wolf Moon as part of preparations for the evening.

    “I would feel more respected if you would simply call me Talia without prompting and you know it.” She accepted the mug with a smile. Deaton had been her friend since they were children and had accepted the role of Emissary as soon as she had taken the title of Alpha. She trusted him with her pack and herself explicitly. “Do we have everything we need for tomorrow morning?”

    “I have all the necessary healing herbs stocked for both human and wolf. And from what I saw this morning it will be an excellent feast tomorrow night to celebrate.”

    “It would be more of a celebration if that old man would work with me instead of demanding to keep it as some barbic sacrifice.” She couldn’t help the slight flair of red that took over her dark gaze and Deaton rests a gentle hand her shoulder.

    “At least we do get members away from him and not all are as brainwashed as his daughter was.”

    “She wasn’t brainwashed, she was blood thirsty.” Talia’s voice gives way to a low growl at the thought of that woman and all the pain she brought to her pack. 

    “That she was, but she is no longer a threat to us. And I have a good feeling about tonight’s run.” Talia looked at him curiously.

    “You do?”

    “Yes. I believe a major change is coming and tonight will be just the beginning.”

 

    The pack members shoved against each other playfully as the prepared themselves for the run to begin. Several of the betas hand already started a game of tag as they waited and Talia couldn’t help but smile. Her youngest kept running over to a young beta with a head full of curls and teasing him and he would tease right back. She raised a brow and looked to her oldest who flashed a knowing smile. So it seemed her youngest would not be finding a match with the human they would be bringing back. Her eldest was currently leaning against a nearby tree with her head on her mate’s shoulder, content in the contact but still vibrating with the need to run. Talia continued her search through the pack until she found the one she was looking for and then she approached.

    “Mom.” He was leaning against the side of a nearby home, arms crossed with a scowl on his face.

    “Derek.” She reached out and was pleased when he didn’t shove her hand away from carding her fingers through his thick, dark hair. She looked into his multicolored eyes and was once again hit by the thought that he looked so much like his father.

    “Here to lecture me before the run?”

    “No. Just wanted to check on you before we go out.” She hates how much anger he has been holding onto. She understands it but wishes he could let himself truly mourn and then move on. It hasn’t been an easy journey for any of them.

     “I’m fine. You don’t need to worry, mom, I’m running with the pack.” He pushes off from the wall and heads towards the group as it begins to gather in a tighter group. Talia sighs and heads to the front of the pack. As the last of the sun’s rays settle beyond the mountain, Talia shifts into her sleek black wolf form and lets out a howl that’s echoed by her pack. The pack, all in their beta forms, surges forward like a well oiled machine with Talia in the lead. The only ones staying behind are the humans or those too young for the distance of the run.

    The wolves run, jump, duck, and play as they go. The pull of the moon as it rises is strong, spurring them on. They run for miles on the journey towards Beacon Hills. Talia and her children take turns checking on the pack to make sure everyone is keeping up, especially they closer they get to the town. The alpha notices her son is getting antsy the closer they get until he freezes, scenting the air. He growls at what he finds and lets loose a howl, taking off into the dark. Talia mimics him in his scenting and is confused at the faint scent of blood. She knows it’s not her pack but it still brings concern. She growls out, an order for the pack to stay close and stay together, and then she is hot on her son’s heels with the pack falling in behind. 

    She mentally curses as Derek seems to gain a  burst of speed and she loses sight of him. When they are almost to the Arch, she growl for the pack to stay back as the scent of blood has grown stronger. Derek’s howl has Talia speeding up and she is brought to a standstill at the sight that greets her when she breaks through the trees. Derek is standing at the arch with the limp body of a young woman in his arms. The white dress she is in is stained red and Talia can hear that her heart is slowing. Derek whirls on his mother as she approaches and Talia shifts to human.

    “Derek, are you with me?” He crouches low and growls and Talia isn’t sure what to do. Derek wasn’t even like this when they brought Paige into the pack years ago. She lets her eyes flash red and she can see that her son is torn between submitting and fighting. “We need to get her to Melissa. She’s hurt and she needs help.” She watches as her son shakes his head as if clearing it of a fog.

    “Mom?” His brow creases in confusion and he looks at the young woman in his arms.

    “Honey, we need to take her to Melissa now. Can you carry her or do I need to take her?” She spots the subtle movement as he holds the girl closer and just nods. “Alright. I need you to come with me, Derek. Laura! Scott!” She raises her voice just enough that her eldest and Melissa’s son come running. They eye the situation carefully, though she can tell Scott is already calculating what needs to be done. “The three of you are going to run ahead. Don’t stop until you reach home. Take her straight to Melissa. Understood?” 

    “Come on, Der.” Talia is grateful that Laura doesn’t question and that Derek follows behind her with ease. Talia had a brief moment to scan the area when she noticed something metal on the ground. She walked over and picked it up, then scowled at what she found. She stared back at the town before shifting and going back to her pack.

 

    Derek wasn't sure what was up with him. The closer they had gotten to Beacon Hills, the more anxious he had gotten. He'd just blamed it on what that town represented for him, but then he'd caught the first scent of blood and his wolf had become manic with worry. He'd grown used to finding the Beacon Hills nominee strung up like a sacrifice but to find this young woman attempting to free herself had not been expected. She turned her head towards him as he'd come through the tree line and the desperation in her face had been heartbreaking. He surged forward as her body gave out, his claws cutting through the final rope as he scooped her up in his arms. The only thing he could think to do was howl for his Alpha.

    He'd been solely focused on keeping track of her heart beat on the race back home. Laura had been the one to signal their return with a distress call causing Melissa and Deaton to meet them at the edge of the village. He'd been reluctant to let them take her, but with Melissa’s gentle coaxing he had done just that and Scott had followed behind to assist. His mother had returned to find him pacing outside of Melissa’s home, his wolf on edge. 

    The door opened finally well into sunset of the next day and an exhausted trio came walking out. Talia and Derek turned their attention to them, the smell of blood still strong. Melissa nodded with a tired smile and Derek felt himself sag in relief.

    “The poor girl is still asleep which we are grateful for. We were lucky.”

    “Can you tell me anything on what exactly happened?” Talia stepped forward, the Alpha aura rolling off her in waves at the idea that this was deliberate. Melissa took the lead as their healer.

    “She was gutted. Whoever did it intended on her to slowly bleed out, but the end goal was death.” Derek growled at the words, his sisters leaning on him for support, but his mother silenced him with a growl of her own. “We managed to get her stitched up and the bleeding stopped, but she is going to be out of it for a while.”

    “There is also something very peculiar.” Alan’s gentle voice spoke up.

    “Deaton?” Red eyes turned towards her Emissary with fire in them.

    “I’m sensing a lot of magic around the girl… at least a lot of suppressing magic.”

    “What do you mean?”

    “She never woke up during us taking care of her. Scott barely had to siphon any of her pain. That tells me that she was drugged before she was taken to the Arch. But I sense much more than that. There is something that was in her system for quite some time and a feeling of very dark energy around her.” Deaton shakes his head. “Until she wakes up I won’t be able to give you more than that. Talia mentally curses.

    “Do you think she will be a danger?” She can feel Derek stiffen behind her, knows he is concerned with what will happen. She needs to find out what happened with him.

    “There is no way for me to know until she wakes up.”

    “Very well.” Talia takes a deep breath. “She’ll remain here for you both to watch over. As soon as she wakes up, I want to know. Derek…” She turns to face her son and she lets her gaze go gentle. “I need you to come with me so we can talk.” She turns and walks away, knowing her son will follow.

 

    Talia’s dark eyes are lost in the flames of the bonfire. What should be a celebration is now just somber and subdued. Her pack is spread out in the clearing in the center of their village, most quietly talking to each other while some attempt to hide their concern over what this could mean.

         “Alpha Hale?” Talia looked up at the voice and sighed. It looked like the conversation she was dreading would be happening sooner than planned.

    “Yes, Allison?” The poor girl looked almost as nervous as she had after announcing her name to the pack for the first time. Her dark hair was pulled back into a messy braid  and her face was full of concern.

    “The person from Beacon… did they give their name?” Her voice shakes and it’s obvious that she is concerned. Everyone had heard that the young woman had been brought back injured and near death. Talia looks her over, remembering the day they had brought her back to the pack. 

_     As soon as the name Argent had passed her lips, everyone had gone into a frenzy with many shouting that they needed to kill her right then and there. Allison hadn’t put up a fight, instead and just dropped to her knees, keeping her eyes to the ground, as she pulled a blade out from the boots she had been put in. That had caused even more commotion but a powerful roar from Talia had everyone silent and still. _

_     “Please, Alpha Hale, I know you don’t trust me but I would like the chance to earn your trust. Lock me away if you want but please hear me out.” Her voice had shaken with nerves and fear, but it was not the overly dramatic fear that had accompanied another Argent amongst them. “My grandfather slipped me that knife with orders to use it. I don’t want to use it. I won’t be the cause of another war.” She tossed the knife to the ground and only then lifted her gaze to lock eyes with Talia. “I’m sure there’s wolfsbane on it and I understand if you want to check me for others. I’ll do whatever you want.” When she had bowed her head, tilting to expose her neck, Talia had been genuinely surprised. _

_     They had done just as Allison said. Some of their human pack mates had searched her for more weapons and after finding none she had been locked away. For three months they had kept her segregated, her only points of contact being Melissa, her son, and Deaton. Scott had been smitten with her and human, as they wouldn’t let any of the younger wolves near her. Then Allison had run out of the home they had kept her in screaming for help. _

_     Everyone had come running. They found Scott on the ground, a wildflower clutched in his hand, gasping for breath. Allison explained that he was showing off this new flower he had found that he was going to take to Deaton. She said he had looked pale, was sweating, and then suddenly he complained he couldn’t breathe. As soon as he collapsed she had run for help since he had told her before that he had breathing problems. She didn’t fight to go with him and didn’t fight to be let out, but she asked her guardians about him every time she saw them. Several people had tried to say that Allison poisoned Scott but Deaton had ruled it out as a reaction to the flower itself. Talia had bitten Scott under his mother’s request when his breathing just kept getting worse and worse and gave orders for Melissa to let Allison know what had happened. _

_     It was another few months before Allison was finally allowed to walk around the village, though they kept her under watchful guards. Again she never tried anything. She asked before she went anywhere and only approached those that sought her out. When she had seen Scott running around she had smiled brightly even though she knew he was now a wolf. _

    “Alpha Hale?” Talia was drawn from her memories by Allison’s soft voice.

    “No, I’m afraid we don’t know her name. She had already passed out by the time we made it there.” She motioned to the spot next to herself and Allison sat. “You’ve been with us a year now, Allison. Yet you’ve never fully explained how it was that you came to be here. You told me it was the drawing but there has always been a skip in your heartbeat. Due to tonight's events I want to give you one last chance to tell me the truth.” She watched as Allison fidgeted before squaring her shoulders and looking Talia in the eye.

    “As you know, Gerard is my grandfather. About two weeks before the Wolf Moon, I overheard him say that when they put the names in to be drawn he was going to make sure that mine was left out. So I spent those two weeks creating a list of my own. They get everything ready two days before and then keep it under lock and key. Well I snuck in and  swapped their list for mine.” She pauses and Talia watches her carefully. “I changed all of the names to my name. There was no way that they couldn't pick me. It wasn’t right that my family was going to use their power to keep me from the same risk as everyone else. The night of the Wolf Moon my best friend’s father escorted me and then my grand… no, Gerard, asked to speak with me alone. He gave me that knife and told me to take out as many wolves as I could, but this has been going on so long, that I just wanted to see if I could find another way.” There are tears slowly dripping down her face as she continues. 

    “Then I got here and everyone immediately distrusted me. After finding out why, I didn’t blame them but I knew you couldn’t know I did it on purpose, especially not after learning my aunt did the same thing as part of Gerard’s plan. I got to learn what this drawing really was supposed to be from Deaton, and I made friends and I’ve come to love this place.” She hastily wiped the tears from her face.

    “I’ll be honest, I miss my best friend and I miss my father, but I don’t regret what I did. I’d do it again.”

    Talia watched and listened. Her heartbeat never faltered. She reached into her shirt and pulled out a small piece of cloth then handed it to Allison who looked at her with confusion.

    “I found this when we found her. I was hoping maybe you could explain it for me.” Allison unwrapped the bundle and then a gasp left her lips. It was a silver arrowhead with her name engraved on the edge. Talia had cleaned it of the little blood she had found on it.

    “This was… this was with her?” When Talia nodded, Allison started crying in earnest.

    “Allison?”

    “It’s from my father… I gave it to him the day I left…” She clutched it tightly for a moment before she seemed to come to a realization. “I know who they sent…”

    “Who Allison?”

    “I need to see her. Please, Alpha Hale-”

    “Talia.” The one word seemed to stop her in her tracks. “Friends and allies call me Talia.”

    “Please, Talia, I need to see her. My father would have only given this to one person. I need to see her.”

    “Are we in danger?” She couldn’t help be immediately jump to that conclusion and was confused when Allison started laughing.

    “No, oh god no, you couldn’t be any further from danger.” Then the tears started again. “They sent her because of me… Gerard is taking it out on her father…”

    “Allison-”

    “They sent my best friend.” Talia’s heart broke for the poor girl and she couldn’t keep herself from drawing her into a comforting embrace. It seemed things were going to get more complicated from there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed.

**Author's Note:**

> I really hope you liked this. I don't know when I will be able to continue it, but I do have plans to. See you soon!


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